


Sweet Talk

by runs_in_the_family



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Billy Hargrove Needs Love, Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Rough Oral Sex, Thank God for Steve Harrington
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 11:18:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19666396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runs_in_the_family/pseuds/runs_in_the_family
Summary: Billy isn't used to kindness. He quickly realises that that isn't what this is.





	Sweet Talk

When Billy was fifteen, a senior with brown eyes and a six pack told him that he was pretty.

Sighed through an exhale of sweet, silvery smoke, the remark made his muscles tighten and his mouth go dry.

They were standing beneath the bleachers, passing a joint back and forth. Billy had been invited to “get high with some of the guys from the football team”. When he’d arrived, there was only one letterman jacket in sight.

Feeling his cheeks begin to warm, he threw back an accusatory “queer” and pretended to laugh it off. He stopped laughing when he felt the brush of knuckles rubbing gently at his jaw.

He was so pretty. And he had such a nice mouth. Was he a good kisser?

Too nervous to speak, all he’d managed was a shrug.

The first time Billy kissed a boy, a nervous tear wormed its way onto his lashes.

* * *

A week later, the senior with the brown eyes and the six pack told him that he was an amazing kisser.

Fearful of showing the relief on his face, Billy leaned back across the car’s console and resumed their make out session. Licking past lips to hide his own smile.

When he felt a hand ghost over his own, the instinct was to take hold of it. Before he could, it morphed into a grip that wrapped tight around his wrist.

He felt a pull. Then he felt the press of denim under his palm.

He was such an amazing kisser. Look what he was able to do. Could he feel how hard it was? God, what else could he do with that mouth?

As the belt unbuckled and the zipper unzipped, Billy’s heart started to hammer. He prayed that the moonlight couldn’t catch the uncertainty on his face.

He braced himself on denim thighs and flinched at the push to the base of his skull.

* * *

Three days later, the senior with the brown eyes and the six pack told Billy that he’d love it if he tried it.

He thought that could be true. That maybe he could love it. But not with the senior with the brown eyes and the six pack.

He didn’t have the chance to say it, though. There were already hands working on his zipper, pulling on his waistband. Moving slow but still seeming like they’d made the decision for him.

He didn’t love it. It felt strange. It hurt a little bit. When Billy asked for it to slow down, it didn’t.

God, he felt so good, did he know that? And he was so pretty, it was like fucking a girl. If he’d relax, he’d enjoy it more. Come on, he just needed to relax and hold still. Hold still. _Hold still._

Eventually, Billy just held still.

He gripped tightly to the bed sheets and felt the loathsome push at the base of his skull. He wondered if this was why his father spat the word “faggot” like a rancid taste. If he’d feel like this every time he tried to appease that part of himself.

Billy shut his eyes and winced when he felt something warm coat his insides.

* * *

The next day, the senior with the brown eyes and the six pack told him how hot he looked kneeling in the dirt.

Billy didn’t respond, didn’t even look up. Just kept his eyes fixed on the belt buckle that was giving him so much difficulty. Told himself that his hands weren’t shaking.

They were beneath the bleachers again, the sound of JV soccer practice too close not to send his heart racing with panic. He was told to relax, that no one would see them. Fingers brushed through his hair and it was all he could do not to flinch from it.

As he worked the zipper open, cigarette ash came tumbling onto his shoulder from above. No apology was made, nor an attempt to brush it off. The filthy grey just sat there as he reached inside the crisp white Calvins.

He was told to lick it, and he did. He was told to kiss it, and he did. The fingers in his hair became a tight fist and he was told to open his mouth. He shut his eyes and complied.

God, he really was made for this. Shit, the way he just knelt there and took it…So good. Did he like it down there? Did he like getting skullfucked in the dirt? No, no, come on, hold still. God, he looked so good like this. Right where he belonged, doing what he was made for. He loved it, right? Come on, how much did he love it?

Billy emerged from the bleachers alone, with blood between his teeth. He doubted that the damage done was irreparable. Not what he’d inflicted, anyway.

Of the rest of it, he wasn’t sure. At that moment, the rest was just a faint knot in his stomach, one that he hoped would pass.

As time went by, however, the hope was all that dissipated. The knot simply grew tighter.

* * *

When Billy was seventeen, a senior with brown eyes and moles on his back told him that he was an asshole.

Laughed through a smile too contagious for Billy not to mirror, it seemed like the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him.

The two of them stood in the shadows behind the school, sneaking a smoke and avoiding drills. The invitation had been his to decline and, usually, he would have. Those kinds of invitations still made him ache a little, though exactly what pained him he could never quite tell.

But he’d looked at those brown eyes, softer than the ones he’d known before, and he’d nodded.

Billy watched a cigarette rise up to the smile, stared intently as the lips sucked a kiss around its filter. His gaze moved to the fingers playing idly with his lighter and he wondered how they’d feel linked between his own. Taking his hand in the dark of a parked car and simply holding it.

No pull. No press of denim beneath his palm. No push at the base of his skull and no making decisions for him.

Billy thought he’d probably love it, if it was with the senior with the brown eyes and the moles on his back.

Laughter accompanied an exhale of smoke.

Was he okay? He had a weird smile on his face. No, no, it wasn’t bad. It was just…different to his normal ones. Not that Harrington noticed his smiles or anything. It was just…well, he probably would have remembered if he’d seen it before. It was…well…different.

In the afternoon shadows behind an Indiana high school, Billy decided that he’d never kissed a boy before. That the senior with the brown eyes and the moles on his back was the one meant to hold that crown.

Later, when their lips finally left one another’s, the battle to stay together lost to excited smiles, the knot in Billy’s stomach seemed to have just vanished.


End file.
